


Staring Into a Mirror

by Tiguidou (JohnnyEgbert)



Category: Dear Evan Hansen, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Anxiety, Connors POV, Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, This was supposed to be canon compliant but woop, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:02:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9808421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnnyEgbert/pseuds/Tiguidou
Summary: Connor and Evan's unlikely (and unstable) friendship starts when Connor pushes Evan on the first day of school and sees something in Evan's eyes that's a little too close to home. Slow burn.





	1. Chapter 1

Connor opened the big metal door with a grimace, bracing himself for the usual stares and whispers as he passed by. They called him a freak, said he unstable and a psychopath.

He was thankful, at least, that most people were too afraid of him nowadays to say these things to his face. Middle school had been horrible, back when people used to push him into lockers and yell cruelties as he walked by. Back when he cared about what people thought and spent his nights crying alone in his room.

He wandered through the halls, watching people talk enthusiastically to their friends about their summers and trying not to feel jealous. If he could, Connor would walk right back out that metal door and never come back, but he knew his mother was waiting in the parking lot to make sure he didn’t.

_If I can just last through first period, that should be enough right? There’s no way she’ll still be waiting. I’m definitely not worth that mu-_

“Hey Connor! Loving the new hair length, very school-shooter chic.”

Connor looked up, anger beginning to course through his veins. He began to shake and the world seemed to blur a little. The first day back was always the worst. He knew he should be used to this by now, but somehow after a few months of vacation away from this place, he always seemed to slip up, always seemed to let some of his feelings unfreeze.

He was just standing there, Connor realized, looking like even more of a freak than he already was. The jerk’s lips were still moving but all Connor could hear was a dull ringing in his ears.  
The jerk was staring at him with an expression that looked like disbelief. Connor took a few deep breaths, forcing his heartrate down, and the ringing started to subside just as the jerk opened his mouth again.

“It was a joke?” he said, in a way that seemed to challenge Connor not to react.

_But it wasn’t a joke and he knows it. Now this asshole is going to play it off like Crazy Connor blew up for no reason and no one would believe me if I tried to object._

Connor felt the anger returning, burning him up from the inside out. He definitely did _not_ want to have an episode on the first day of school.

“Yeah, no it was funny. I’m laughing, can’t you tell?” he replied sarcastically, gritting his teeth. He was trying to control himself, but the jerk was just _standing_ there, smirking at him.

“Am I not laughing hard enough for you?” he spoke again, the world getting blurrier and blurrier. His mind was getting foggier and he didn’t think it was just the pot that was dulling his thoughts.

_Why isn’t this guy fucking reacting?_

The jerk stood there for a moment, watching Connor as he disintegrated from the inside out.

“Heh.. you’re such a freak” he said finally, a dismissive tone in his voice.

Then the scrawny kid beside him let out this weird kind of snort and Connor snapped.

He hadn’t even noticed there was someone else standing there. As soon as he’d turned his head to look he knew who it was.

_Evan Hansen. I’m being laughed at by Evan fucking Hansen._

Infamous for being invisible, Evan Hansen was probably one of the only people Connor was above on the social ladder. Being laughed at by him of all people was the last straw for Connor. The dam broke. The ringing in his ears returned and his vision was so blurry he could barely see the bastard’s face.

“What the fuck are you laughing at” Connor seethed. He couldn’t tell if Evan had responded but it didn’t matter. “Stop fucking laughing at me!”

His voice was getting louder, and he could almost feel Evan’s fear in the air. It didn’t settle his anger, on the contrary, it just served to egg him on.

Connor could hear Evan’s voice, shaky and stuttering, but it was distant and he couldn’t make out the words. Not that he really cared anyway.

_Evan fucking Hansen thinks he can laugh at me, thinks he can call me a freak like all the other assholes at this school. He thinks he has the right to say that to me?_

“You think I’m a freak?” Connor said menacingly, stepping closer to the fuzzy blob that was Evan.

"No I do-"

“I’m not the freak” yelled Connor, “You’re the fucking freak!” he shoved both hands into Evan’s shoulders, hard, feeling the frail body move easily under his fingertips.

Evan stumbled backward, stuttering and looking at the ground. Connor just stood there, panting as the ringing in his ears drifted away again and his vision returned to normal.

Evan looked up at him, then quickly put his head back down, but Connor saw the look in his eyes. He saw the same hopelessness and desolation that he saw whenever he stared into a mirror.

_I’m just like my parents._

He took a deep breath.

_It's just like Zoe always says: I'm a monster._

He looked down at his shaky hands.

_I’m just like all the jerks at this school who used to think they could push me around._

Connor looked back at Evan as a lump formed in his throat. Then he turned around and bolted.

* * *

 

Connor ran down the hallway, desperate and panting. As he passed by the crowds of students, he felt all eyes turn to him and fought to keep the tears inside, to keep his feelings frozen for just a little longer.

He knew he was a jerk. He knew it and he was okay with it because he always told himself that he only gave people what they deserved. His parents, the kids at school, Zoe; none of them deserved his kindness or sympathy.

But then there was this kid. Shaky, stuttering Evan Hansen. Connor knew he didn’t deserve it. Deep down, he knew that none of the others deserved the way he treated them either. His mom was desperately trying to help him, drowning in her feelings of helplessness. His dad and sister just didn’t understand. The disappointment in his dad’s eyes whenever he looked at Connor always felt like a punch to the gut, but he still probably didn’t deserve all the terrible things Connor had said to him over the years.

Connor turned the corner, finally finding a bathroom he could hide out in. He ducked inside and locked himself in the first open stall just as the tears began to cascade down his face.

It wasn’t just that Evan didn’t deserve what Connor said to him that made him feel so guilty and scared. The look in Evan’s eyes, in weak and nervous Evan Hansen’s eyes, made Connor feel like he was seeing into his own soul.

He spent months, _years_ trying not to be weak, trying to be strong and intimidating and numb, but he was just like stupid Evan Hansen. He was invisible. He was nervous and terrified of what other people thought of him. He’d pushed those feelings down years ago, but now they were all floating back up to the surface and Connor was powerless to stop them.

The worst part was that he knew Evan had seen it too. In the brief moment their eyes had met, Evan had seen into his soul. He had seen all the things that no one was supposed to see, not even Connor himself.

Connor’s best kept secret was out, and soon everyone would know just how _frail_ he was. He’d just pushed Evan for no reason, called him a freak for _no reason_. Evan had a right to be angry.

_Even Evan Hansen – probably the nicest guy in this entire goddamned school – thinks I’m a monster and a freak._

Connor slammed his fist into the wall of the metal stall, needing to feel the pain to ground himself, needing to release the tension in some way, but it wasn’t enough. He drew his fist back and slammed it into the wall again, harder this time, gritting his teeth so he wouldn’t cry out. Over and over he punched the wall while tears slid down his face and dripped onto the tiled floor.

If he was being honest with himself, Connor knew that he wasn’t just upset because Evan Hansen had seen the real him.

He had always admired Evan. Throughout the years of kids laughing at his stuttering, or pushing past him in the hallways, Evan Hansen refused to be anyone but himself. Even if people saw him as weak, Connor knew Evan was stronger than him by far.

When life became too painful, Connor had retreated and buried himself under layers of anger and apathy, but Evan had continued to soldier on, he hadn’t lost himself the way Connor had. In a way, Evan Hansen was the person Connor wished he could be.

_He’s going to turn out just like me, and it’ll be all my fault. Wow, leave it to Crazy Connor to turn the nicest kid in school into a monster._

He had to make this right. He had to do _something_ or the guilt would eat him alive more than the anger already was.

Connor leaned on the wall, feeling exhausted. His tears seemed to have dried up, although he wasn’t quite sure when that had happened.

He looked at the hand that had been punching the wall. His knuckles were bloody and bruised, but he couldn’t feel a thing. He wasn’t sure when he’d stopped hitting the wall, either.

He took a deep breath, unlocked the door, and stepped out. Connor walked over to the sink to wash the blood off his hand, but when he looked up into the mirror he felt a pang of something he couldn’t quite place. The same pang he’d felt when he had looked at Evan Hansen in the hallway.

_I need to do something, maybe I can, like, apologize or something? Wait what if he’s scared of me? Or what if he thinks that’s weird I don’t want him to think I’m weird or sappy or weak or –_

Connor shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He stared straight into the eyes of his reflection and made up his mind. No matter what, he _would_ apologize to Evan Hansen.

_Okay, so where would Evan Hansen be?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short... It's because I was originally going to write a one-shot but then I ended up breaking it into three parts sooo this part's a little short. Oh also the dialogue for this part is the dialogue from the show (if you were wondering). I really like comments!!
> 
> Edit: I decided to combine the first two chapters because they were both really short! (sorry to the comments that got deleted because of this)


	2. Chapter 2

Connor walked back in through that big metal door just as the final bell was ringing. 

First period had already started by the time he’d left the bathroom, and he’d known that he’d have no chance of finding Evan until after school, so he’d decided to get away from this hellhole for a few hours. 

But now he was back, subjecting himself to the whispers and stares for the second time that day. 

_I can’t believe I’m putting in so much effort for this kid._

Connor had a hunch that Evan, like him, didn’t want to spend any more time here than he had to. He had to act quickly if he wanted to find him. 

Since it was painfully obvious Evan didn’t have any friends, there were three options for where he could be after school: The library, the computer lab, or already on his way home. The school library closed when the final bell rang, and if Evan was on his way home then Connor had already failed, so he made his way straight for the computer lab.

Connor shoved through the crowds forcefully, feeling glares shoot his way as he passed. He hated crowds, they irritated him beyond measure. He was walking the wrong way through a sea of people and all the faces started to blur as he continued to push past. Connor kept his head down, trying to block out the feeling of all their shoulders rubbing against his and all their backpacks pushing against him.

_I know I’m going the wrong way and these assholes keep looking at me because it’s wrong and_ I’m _wrong and everything I do is wrong, wrong, wrong._

“Yeah, okay, bye Mom” 

Connor looked up at the voice, he had turned the corner and was out of the main hallway now, away from the crowds. He was standing outside the computer lab and, though he didn’t know the guy all that well, he could’ve sworn it was Evan Hansen’s voice he heard. 

He peeked cautiously through the door and saw that he was right. There, sitting at a computer in the back corner, was Evan Hansen. He was slowly typing something out, a sort of pained expression on his face.

_Is he upset because of me?_ He wondered, then rolled his eyes at himself, _Of course he isn’t Crazy Connor, nobody gives a shit about you._

Connor walked in and sat at the computer closest to the door so that he would know when Evan was about to leave. He heard the printer fire up, beeping and wheezing as it printed whatever Evan had written, then suddenly Evan was heading for the door.

_Shit._

Just as Evan got to the door, Connor stood up abruptly. Evan jumped, his entire body flinching away.

_Shit shit shit_

They both stood there silently, as if frozen in time. Connor took in Evan’s wide eyes and shaky hands as he reached for something to say. 

“So…” he started, having no idea why he’d decided to do this in the first place. 

_Why didn’t I think this through?_

He glanced down at the cast covering Evan’s left arm and blurted, “what happened to your arm?”

Evan looked down at it, almost as if realizing for the first time that it was broken. “Oh… I, um, I fell out of a tree actually” he said eventually, his head down and his voice quiet.

“Fell out of a tree?” Connor asked in disbelief, “Well that is just the saddest fucking thing I have ever heard.” 

Evan smiled and mumbled some incoherent response but he seemed to visibly deflate. He clasped his hands together tightly, probably so that Connor wouldn’t see how shaky they were, and Connor considered stabbing himself.

_Why do I even open my stupid mouth if I’m such a terrible person? I’m so fucking rude to people Jesus Christ Connor get it together._

Connor cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um,” he said, trying to find the right words, “no one’s signed your cast.”

Another flinch. “No, I know,” he whispered.

_God dammit Connor why can’t you do anything right?_

“Well I’ll sign it.”

Evan looked up, confusion in his eyes. 

“Oh, well you don’t have to –”

“Do you have a sharpie?” Connor interrupted, ignoring Evan’s weak protests.

Evan stared, opening his mouth and then promptly closing it again. He reached into his backpack and wordlessly handed Connor a black sharpie. 

Connor took the marker and wrote his name in capital letters, as big as he could make them. He though at least if he wrote it this way people would think his was the only signature because there wasn’t room for any others, and not because of the real reason. 

“Great, thanks”, Evan said, looking down at the shaky black letters written on his cast. 

“Yeah, well now we can both pretend that we have friends.” Connor rubbed his arm awkwardly and looked into Evan’s eyes, searching for a spark of recognition from his statement.

Something passed between them, a sort of mutual understanding, and Connor knew that even if he didn’t say the words out loud, Evan knew he was sorry. Finally, feeling uncomfortable and way too vulnerable, he shifted his gaze toward the ground and angled his body away from Evan. 

Just as Evan began to walk away, Connor remembered the freshly printed document still on the printer. 

“Is this yours?” he called, picking it up, “I found it on the printer it’s um, Dear Evan Hansen, that’s your name, right? And –”

“Yeah, no no no,” Evan interrupted, clearly flustered, “that’s just stupid it’s just, it’s this paper that I had to write it’s for an assignment –”

“Because there’s Zoe?” Connor read aloud, the anger from that morning starting to work its way back into his veins, “is this about my sister?”

Evan was saying something, making up some fake excuse probably, but Connor couldn’t hear him anymore. 

_I felt_ bad _for this son of a bitch. I thought I was wrong for pushing him before but it turns out I’m right, I’m always right. Nobody deserves my sympathy. Nobody deserves my trust. I can’t_ believe _I fell for this shit._

“You wrote this because you knew that I would find it” Connor said, his voice low and quiet, his hands balling into fists at his sides. It wasn’t a question, and Evan didn’t answer. He just looked back at Connor, eyes wide and confused.

“Yeah, you um, you saw that I was the only other person in the computer lab so you,” Connor took a breath, forcing himself to calm down, “you wrote this and you printed it out so that I would find it.” His vision was getting blurry again, and even though the bastard deserved it for real this time, Connor didn’t want to lose control for a second time that day. 

“Why? Um why would I –” Evan spoke, but it sounded to Connor like he was talking from the bottom of a swimming pool; it was distant and muffled and in slow-motion. 

“So I would read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister and freak out, right?” Connor seethed, clenching his fists harder and gritting his teeth, “And then you could tell everyone that I’m crazy, right?” He was trying to keep his voice down, trying not to go ‘crazy’ like everyone expected him to, but he felt the anger building up inside of him and he couldn’t hold it all in. 

“Fuck you!” he screamed finally, spewing hatred at Evan. He turned and walked calmly away, refusing to run away again like a scared rabbit. 

He heard Evan screaming behind him but he didn’t care, he _couldn’t_ care. Connor made a vow with himself never to care about anyone ever again. 

It just hurt too damned much when they eventually betrayed you.


	3. Chapter 3

“Connor Murphy! Where have you been?” He winced and closed the front door behind him when he heard the angry voice.

“Get in here right now, son” called a calmer voice, less frantic but not less angry. His dad.

_Great, they’re both here this time._

Connor sighed, dropped his bag by the door and walked into the living room where his parents were waiting for him. 

“Connor,” his mom started, “we got a call from your school saying you were absent from all your classes!” she paused, desperately trying to find some remorse in her son’s eyes. 

“You promised you would try harder this year…” she trailed off, tears springing into her eyes. She turned her gaze to the carpet.

_She can’t even stand to look at me._

“Why would you do this to us son?” Connor’s dad continued for her, “we do everything for you and this is how you repay us?”

Conversations like these usually made Connor roll his eyes at best and bubble up with anger at worst, but today things were different. He could feel guilt clawing its way through him and tearing him apart. He’d always known that his dad saw him as a disappointment, but today the full impact of that title seemed to hang over his head and it was too much for him to bear.

“This isn’t a rhetorical question Connor, why would you do this?” his father’s glare of disapproval burned right through him and he just stood there, unable to form a reasonable answer. 

“I’m sorry, dad,” Connor mumbled eventually, voice shaky, “I’m trying, I really am.”

“This is trying?!” his dad exploded, “You didn’t go to a single class today Connor! You’re going to need to do a whole lot better than this if you want to keep living under my roof.” 

From beside him his mother gasped.

“Larry, hold on,” she managed, voice thick with tears.

His dad’s eyes were full of anger, but not the maniacal kind. Connor could tell he meant every word he’d said. He felt like he’d been slapped in the face and he could no longer bring himself to meet either of their eyes.

“No, Cynthia, I’m putting my foot down. He’s never been grateful for all that we’ve done for him.” He shook his head sadly, “Connor’s a lost cause.”

_A lost cause._

His dad walked out, his mother trailing tiredly after him, leaving Connor to stand alone in his living room and digest just how much of a burden he was to his parents.

 _No, not_ my _living room, I should be calling it_ their _living room now._

He felt the tears building up inside of him, inches away from the surface, and rushed to his bedroom before anyone could witness the flurry of sobs he knew was coming. 

He pushed past Zoe on the stairs, earning him a dirty look and a snarky comment but he didn’t care, he just wanted to get to the safety of his room.

He shut the door behind him and the floodgates opened. He was overcome with tears and dropped to his knees, suddenly exhausted and unable to stand.

 _Two breakdowns in one day? What is_ wrong _with me._

His dad’s words echoed in his head, over and over, hitting him like thrown punches every time.

_A lost cause. He said I was a lost cause. That means they’re done with me, that’s it. I’ve failed everyone I’ve ever known. I’m useless. I’m nothing but a lost cause._

Connor’s breathing was getting quicker and no matter how many times he inhaled, he felt like he could never get enough air. With shaky, desperate hands he reached into his dresser drawer and felt around for the small red tin.

_Where is it where is it where is it, where the fuck is it?!_

His hands felt something smooth and cold and his lips stretched into a small smile. When he removed the cover and saw that the tin was empty, however, his heart sank and his smile fell. He’d forgotten that he’d smoked the last of it that morning. 

_Fuck, Connor, how could you forget to restock?_

He pressed his palms into his eyes until he saw white spots. He needed to get away, he needed to not _feel_ this, but he’d fucked up and now there was no chance of escape. 

When he lifted his hands from his eyes his vision was blurry and he didn’t feel much better. He couldn’t control the sobs that were taking over his body.

He felt his hands shaking again and shoved them roughly into the pockets of his jeans, where he felt a crumpled piece of paper between his fingers. Evan fucking Hansen’s letter. 

Connor thought about it, tears still pouring from his eyes, and decided that maybe this letter could help him escape. He hadn’t been able to read more than two sentences of it at school without losing control of his anger. He hated these feelings of despair and guilt and failure, but anger was something he was familiar with. Anger, he was used to. 

He pulled the crumpled letter out of his pocket and flattened it out. Even glancing over the name “Zoe” made the tears retreat and his blood boil and, in that moment, he was glad for stupid Evan Hansen. 

He started to read:

“Dear Evan Hansen,

It turns out this wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year because why would it be? Oh I know because there’s Zoe, and all my hope is pinned on Zoe who I don’t even know and who doesn’t know me.”

Connor paused, a different kind of guilt creeping in now. This wasn’t some sex letter about Zoe. It seemed like an everyday journal entry, and honestly? It was really fucking depressing. He swallowed hard, trying not to feel too bad about how he’d treated Evan, at least not before he’d finished reading the entire letter.

“Maybe if I could just talk to her, then maybe. Maybe nothing would be different at all. I wish everything was different. I wish I was part of something. I wish that anything that I said mattered to anyone.”

His breath hitched and tears sprang to his eyes yet again. Not desperate sobs this time, but slow, rolling tears. This kid was a lot more like him than he’d thought.

“I mean, face it would anyone even notice if I just disappeared tomorrow?”

Connor thought about it. Honestly, _would_ anyone notice if Evan Hansen disappeared? 

_If people don’t care about Evan Hansen, a quiet but responsible kid who probably shows up to school every single goddamn day, why should anyone notice if someone like me, a slacker and a stoner and a lost cause, just stopped existing?_

He looked back at the letter again.

“Sincerely your best and most dearest friend, 

Me”

Reading Evan’s letter made Connor feel like someone had reached into the dark recesses of his mind and dug up his repressed thoughts and feelings. No one cared about him. Everything he said was ignored or ridiculed, by his parents, by his sister, by whoever. Connor’s best friend was himself. 

The worst part was that he knew he had a lot to do with why Evan wrote the letter. When he’d pushed Evan that morning, when he was overcome with anger, he saw the hurt in Evan’s eyes. He saw it and he ran away.

He tried to fix it, tried to prove he wasn’t a monster, but he lost it again. He couldn’t even apologize right and now this innocent kid was probably going to go hurt himself and it was all Connor’s fault.

Even when he tried to be nice, he brought destruction down all around him. Maybe everyone was better off without him.

Evan’s words said it all; no one would care if Connor disappeared.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan goes to Connor's house to retrieve his letter, but what he finds is not what he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's from Evan's POV! Also, sliighhht trigger warning for suicide stuff but it's not super explicit or anything.

Evan stared up at the giant suburban house that seemed to loom over him. It wasn’t quite a mansion, but it was close.

_Why did I think this was a good idea?_

He stood in the driveway, fiddling with the hem of his shirt and transferring his weight from one leg to the other anxiously. He stared at his worn-out sneakers as they shifted methodically on the asphalt. 

He had just stood there, freaking out internally, in the doorway of the computer lab for an embarrassingly long time after Connor had walked out. His mind had started to spin, imagining all the terrible scenarios that could come from Connor reading that letter. Most of these scenarios were completely ridiculous and Evan knew it, but it didn’t make him any less terrified. In some ways, the fact that he knew he was overthinking these hypothetical situations made things worse. He felt crazy and stupid and he was just so _frustrated_ with himself. 

He thought about Connor. About how he would react when he read Evan’s stupid letter. About how he’d laugh and tell Zoe, so she could laugh along with him. About how he’d tell everyone at school, ruining even the pseudo-friendship he had with Jared.

Then Evan really would be all alone. 

He thought about his mother. About how she’d keep asking him about Jared, and Evan would have to make up some excuse to keep her from worrying. About how that excuse wouldn’t work, because they never really did, and she would get that sad, scared look on her face and say in that one nervous voice _“You sure you’re all good for meds, honey?”_

Finally, he thought about the stupid letter. About how he’d show up to his appointment without one and Dr. Sherman would think he didn’t really care about his recovery, and he’d tell his mom about his concerns, and she’d be so _hurt._

Evan thought about how he always seemed to be messing up her life.

After all that thinking and fidgeting and worrying, there was only one thought that stuck out clearly enough for Evan to latch on to: He needed to get that letter back.  
And that led him to where he was now, staring up at the big windows on the second floor, wondering what room he was looking into. Evan had never been inside a house this nice and it occurred to him just how different his life was to someone like Connor’s. 

Stuffing his shaky hands into his jean pockets to stop his fidgeting, Evan took several deep breaths and started towards the front door. When he got there, hand outstretched, hovering over the doorbell, he paused. 

_What if his parents answer the door? What if Zoe does?_

He closed his eyes and breathed in slowly, _just relax relax relax, you can do this Evan_ , he opened his eyes again with new determination.

_How am I going to explain how I got this address? I can’t tell them I found it in the phonebook they’ll think – Wait what if this isn’t even the right house? Oh god what if –_

Evan jammed his finger into the doorbell with a sudden push, trying to ignore the thoughts bouncing around in his head. 

A man who was most likely Connor’s dad opened the door. He looked exasperated and weary, probably at being interrupted in the middle of whatever he was doing.

“Can I help you?” he asked absently. His eyes were glazed over, and even though he was looking at Evan, it felt like the man hadn’t seen him at all.

“Um, y-yes I… I came to see Connor?” Evan stuttered, his words turning up at the end. He hadn’t meant it as a question, but that's how it'd sounded. 

“To see Connor?” the man echoed. His gaze refocused so that he was actually looking at Evan now, a perplexed expression on his face.

Evan was waiting, unsure if he was meant to respond, when the man spoke again.

“But Connor doesn’t…” he trailed off, but seemed to regain his composure then, because he straightened up and his lips stretched into a genuine smile. “He’s right upstairs, first door on the left,” he replied before stepping out of the way to let Evan in.

He walked inside and started making his way up the stairs, heart beating too fast to look around and notice how beautiful and _expensive_ the house looked on the inside. Instead of imagining everything that could go wrong, he tried to think of how the carpet felt beneath his feat, how smooth the wooden railing was under his sweaty palms.

It was only when he was standing in front of the door to Connor’s room that Evan started to royally freak out.

_He’s going to be so mad and he’ll to yell and scream and what if he pushes me down the stairs and –_

_I can’t leave now though his dad was so happy that I’m here to see Connor if I left he’d be so disappointed and sad and I can’t let him feel that way because of me._

_Oh god I screw up everything I touch I wish I could be anywhere but here right now I wish –_

The door was suddenly wrenched open and Evan found himself face to face with Connor Murphy for the third time that day. He immediately turned his gaze to the floor, wringing his hands awkwardly.

“What are you doing here?” Connor asked angrily, but the malice in his voice seemed forced.

“Well, um I… I um –”

“God, spit it out already!” interrupted Connor. He sounded tired in the same way his dad had when he’d answered the door.

Evan glanced up from staring at his shoes and saw a crumpled piece of paper in Connor’s hand. He pointed shakily with his right arm.

“The… the letter? I wanted t-to get it, uh, back,” he said, not daring to look Connor in the eyes.

When Connor didn’t answer, Evan looked up hesitantly and noticed for the first time that Connor’s eyes were puffy and his cheeks had that unmistakable blotchiness that Evan knew all too well. When they made eye contact, Connor’s eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched.

“Just get out!” yelled Connor finally, forcefully slamming the door in Evan’s face.

He stood in front of the door, completely immobile, for what felt like hours, but was maybe only a few minutes. His mind was racing almost as fast as his heart was, and it felt like he was trying to breathe from an empty oxygen tank. He needed that letter, he _really_ needed that letter, but like always, he'd screwed up.

_I can’t do anything at all and now everything will be ruined and I’ll never be able to go to school again because they’ll all know and mom will be so disappointed why can’t I just be normal I need that letter I need that letter I NEED THAT LETTER!_

Evan’s body felt like it was screaming and his legs felt like jelly. 

_This can’t happen here but I don’t know if I can walk home right now what if someone sees me what if Zoe sees me._

He kept breathing in, gasping for air over and over again, but it felt like there was never anything to breathe out.

And so he stayed like that, in a crumpled heap on the floor of the Murphy’s second floor, until the world came back into focus and his lungs didn’t feel like they were burning anymore. He got up slowly, wiping the wetness off his face and trying to steady himself. Then, without giving himself time to freak out, he barged back into Connor’s room. 

Connor was sitting at his desk, and for a split second his head was down, eyes fixated on something Evan couldn’t quite see. He jumped when he heard Evan barge in and something flew out his hand and clinked onto the desk. 

“I n-need that letter,” Evan said, staring determinately at the beige carpet. His right hand balled up into a fist, left hand clenching as much as was possible with his cast.

Connor didn’t answer this time, either, but when Evan looked back up at him, his expression was nothing like it had been before. 

Connor looked like a deer in headlights. His eyes were wide and he looked at once guilty and completely vulnerable. 

“What makes you think you can just come into my room?” he asked in what was probably supposed to be anger, but his voice wasn’t as strong as it usually was.

Evan didn’t answer, he didn’t think Connor really wanted him to, anyway. Connor reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled letter, shoving it forcefully in Evan’s direction.

“Take your fucked up letter, I don’t care, just leave me alone,” he muttered. 

Evan couldn’t find his voice, so he wordlessly grabbed the letter and was about to make his way to the door when he saw what Connor had dropped on the desk earlier. There, beside where Connor’s left arm had been sitting on the desk, was a silver razor blade. He hadn’t been able to see it from the door, but from here there was no doubt in his mind about what it was.

Evan turned his gaze slowly to Connor’s left wrist, where he could see a small cut from when Evan had startled him.

“Um, Connor?” he wasn’t sure what to say, but he knew he couldn’t just let this go.

“Why aren’t you gone yet?” it was even easier for Evan to see through Connor’s forced hostility now.

“Were you… planning to d-do something?” Evan asked nervously, afraid of how Connor might react to his question.

“What do you mean?” Connor asked, looking utterly confused.

“Well I mean I just …I saw the razor? And the cut on your hand? And I –”

“Okay that’s it, it’s time for you to get out for real,” Connor interjected as he turned away from Evan.

Evan didn’t move. He scratched his cast absently, trying to think of what the right thing would be to do.

“Why the _fuck_ are you still here? Didn’t I tell you to leave, like, _three_ times?” Connor was fuming, but his voice was thick with tears and it was jarring for Evan to see Connor Murphy, the guy who’d pushed him in the hallway, like this.

“Was it because of my letter?” Evan asked quietly, almost to himself, and Connor sighed.

It took a while for him to respond, and Evan knew it was because he was trying to hold back the tears enough to be able to speak.

“Not-not really, I just,” another sigh, and then he turned around to face Evan, “there are a lot of reasons that, that... and then I read your letter and I,” he paused, as if searching for the right words to explain what he meant. 

Connor lifted his head to stare at the ceiling before he spoke again, “I guess I just thought about what you wrote and how,” he swallowed, “how it’s so… true.”

Evan nodded and wrapped his arms around himself, wincing at the fact that Connor had read his letter. He’d read Evan’s letter and it’d made him try to – 

Evan breathed in sharply. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

_I don’t even know him and I screwed his life up by being my broken self! What the hell Evan?_

Connor stood up suddenly, a mix of regret and compassion on his face. But Evan flinched back instinctively from the sudden motion, and the expression in Connor’s eyes turned from compassion to hurt to anger. His jaw clenched and his shoulders went rigid. It looked like he was trying to keep a storm from tumbling out of him.

He turned back around and banged his fist on the desk forcefully.

“Just get out,” he whispered through clenched teeth.

“But, I mean, are you …?” asked Evan cautiously, completely taken aback by the sudden change in Connor.

“Just get out already!” he yelled, loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear him, and Evan scrambled out of the room as fast as he could, clumsily bumping his hip against the bed frame on his way.

Connor’s dad was waiting at the bottom of the stairs with questions written all over his face, but Evan just pushed past him and into the safety of the fresh air outside.


	5. Chapter 5

“Connor, you’re actually _going_ to school today, okay?”

Connor rolled his eyes dramatically as he grabbed his bagel off the toaster. Behind him, his mother sighed. He turned around quickly, sheepish.

“Don’t worry, mom, I’ll go” he told her as he practically crammed the bagel into his mouth, nearly choking. He felt better today, surprisingly. Better than he’d felt in a long time and it felt… refreshing.

_Didn’t I feel like offing myself, like, yesterday? Why am I so okay today? I must be more fucked up than I thought._

Her face lit up like a lightbulb and he felt his heart squeeze until he had to look away.

_Am I so goddamn disappointing all the time that something like going to school makes her this happy?_

“Honey…” she started, voice all wobbly,” you know I’m proud of you, don’t you?”

Connor turned around, mortified.

“Are – are you _crying_?”

 _Why does she_ care _so much? Man, her life would be so much better if she’d just let me go. Like everyone else did a long time ago._

She reached her arms out, aiming for a hug, and Connor’s eyes widened. He didn’t know why but he simply could not let that happen. He ducked under her arm quickly and grabbed his school bag, throwing it over his shoulder.

“Sorry,” he called meekly behind him, “wouldn’t wanna be late,” he murmured as he shut the door on his way out.

* * *

 

“And then Ms. Thomas gave me a B-minus! Can you believe it? No wonder that crotchety old bitch could never find a husband, I bet she – hey, are you even listening to me at all?” Jared jabbed Evan in the shoulder with his index finger.

Evan looked up, shaken from his detachment, and stared straight into Jared’s exasperated face. They had been walking to class, but now they were standing in the middle of the hall, looking at each other.

_Oh god, what did I do now? He looks angry why is he angry why am I such a screw-up that I don’t even know when I screw up anymore._

“Jesus, Evan, why are you so spacey all the damn time? It makes it really hard to be friends with you!”

“We-we’re not friends though,” Evan muttered quietly as he started walking again.

“What?” asked Jared, the annoyance on his face increasing by the second.

“We’re not real – , um, we’re j-just family friends remember? For your, uh, car insurance?” Evan struggled to say.

“Oh.” Jared answered, turning his head away so Evan couldn’t see his face, “right.”

“Yeah so, you don’t-you don’t have to be friends with me, if it’s too annoying,” Evan swallowed, “I mean I, um, I know how I can be and I know it’s just for your car insurance so, um, if you-if you wanted I could just tell my mom you were nice and you don’t, um, you don’t have to –“

Evan was interrupted by Jared’s hand roughly grabbing his upper arm and forcing Evan to turn towards him. It wasn’t annoyance on his face anymore, Evan decided, but he couldn’t quite decide what had replaced it.

“Evan.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but no other words came out of his mouth.

“Um, y-yes?” Evan answered after an awkward pause. He didn’t understand why Jared was being so weird and it was making him nervous.

_It’s probably just me being weird, it’s always my fault, it's always me._

“Do you, um,” Jared cleared his throat, “Do you really think that’s what I think?”

Evan was dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

“You think I’m just faking being your friend? That I don’t want to talk to you?” Jared’s voice started to rise, his face getting redder, “you really think I’m that much of an asshole?”

“You tell me you hate-hate me, like, every day!” Evan yelled, frustrated, balling up the hem of his shirt in his hands, “forgive me if I, if I interpret that as you not wanting to talk to me!” His breaths were getting shorter and here he was, on the verge of yet _another_ panic attack.

“Evan –“

“I don’t understand why you don’t tell me to go away already! If I’m so annoying a-and difficult. If I’m so, so,” He couldn’t really see Jared’s face clearly anymore. Evan was confused as to where this came from and had no idea how to deal with it, so he did what Evan Hansen does best: he slipped away.

His thoughts raced as he stalked down the hall as normally as possible, trying not to bring any attention to himself. He heard Jared calling his name weakly from behind him, but he knew he wouldn't follow and he knew he'd stop calling, because he didn't _really_ care.

_Great job, Evan, way to screw up everything. You just lost yourself the only person resembling a friend you’ve ever had. It’s official now, no one cares, and with my luck Connor has already told everyone how much of a freak I am and no one will even be able to look at me anymore and I’ll have to start homeschooling and Mom will need to know why and –_

Then Evan’s thoughts were interrupted when he crashed right into someone’s back.

* * *

 

Connor strode out of first period English, on to his next class like an actual studious student. He was pretty sure it was Law, or maybe it was Philosophy? He stopped to pull out his phone and check his schedule, but just as he was confirming that it was in fact, Philosophy, something hit him from behind and caused him to lurch forward.

He whipped around, about to cuss out the asshole who probably pushed him on a dare and already feeling the familiar anger bubble into his veins, when he stopped short. Standing there, eyes glued to the ground and free hand scratching uncomfortably at his cast, was Evan Hansen.

Connor hadn’t been too worried about Evan telling anyone what he’d seen, honestly, because he was _Evan Hansen_ and who the fuck did he talk to anyway? But standing here, looking at the kid who saw Connor have some kind of weird breakdown he’d prefer to repress the shit out of, _that_ was starting to make him uncomfortable.

Evan just stood there, not looking at Connor but not making any attempt to leave either, and Connor felt his frustration start to become that buzzing energy in his fingertips. As annoying as this kid was, he didn't deserve Connor's wrath _again_ , so he took deep breaths and tried to stay as calm as possible.

Evan kept standing there, eyes wandering all around, and Connor knew he was thinking about what he’d seen at Connor's house. He could feel himself getting angry again, like he always did. As far as he was concerned, the incident did not happen, but having Evan thinking about it right in front of him was totally ruining the lie he’d been telling himself.

“Why are you still standing here?” Connor asked. His voice was low and threatening, a warning for Evan to leave before the anger really set in.

Evan didn’t move an inch, didn’t even open his mouth, and Connor’s eyes narrowed.

“That means go away, _freak_ ” he spat, feeling a rush of pleasure when Evan flinched at the harshness of his words.

As he watched Evan hurrying away and get smaller and smaller in the distance, the feeling of satisfaction disappeared and all that was left in Connor was complete, overwhelming guilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good ol' life has been beating me up pretty badly lately so this is way later than I wanted it to be and I'm really sorry :( :(


	6. Chapter 6

Evan had never skipped class before, he was always too afraid of what people would think if he just didn’t show up, of what they would say. Maybe they would think he was really sick, or that he’d moved away, or that he was a delinquent, and then they’d ask him all these questions when he came back and he wouldn’t have the right answers. Or maybe they’d know the truth, and they’d see that he didn’t show up because he was such a loser that he couldn’t handle coming to school anymore. That would be worse.

He knew he was stupid for even imagining these things, because deep inside Evan knew the truth. They wouldn’t think about him or talk about him or ask him any questions when he came back, because they wouldn’t even notice that he wasn’t there. No one paid attention to him, and even if they noticed, no one cared enough to ask.

He had screwed up _again_  and instead of just being embarrassed and vaguely annoyed by him, Evan knew that Jared hated him for real now. He’d lost the only thing that even remotely resembled a friend.

He laughed derisively at himself as his feet continued to march steadily on the pavement.

 _How pathetic is that? Jared wasn’t even my_ friend _and I managed to mess things up so badly that he’ll never talk to me again. And then there’s Connor. I can’t believe I’m so lonely and pathetic that I had to go and project my feelings on him, who was I kidding? We’re not alike. No one is like me. I just couldn’t admit to myself how broken I am and Connor was just_ fine _before he read my letter and I went and messed up his entire life just by being me and –_

“Evan?” called a voice from behind him, all chipper and happy and the complete opposite of Evan’s current mood.

He turned around and saw Alana Beck, queen of extracurricular activities, looking at him curiously with big round eyes and a confused smile.

“Oh, uh, hey Alana,” he said after a while, unsure of what she was expecting.

But the confusion didn’t disappear from her face, “is everything okay?” she asked, “second period is just about to start and I’m just out here waiting for my teacher advisor to give me a ride to my co-op placement, I’m working over at the elementary school because it’ll be so great for my college applications, and anyway it seemed like you were walking away from school!”

“Oh,” he said, his mind reeling, trying to come up with an excuse more reasonable than ‘I’m a terrible person who messes everything up and I just can’t be here right now’. For some reason, even with all the thinking going on in his brain, his mind felt blank and he just stood there staring at her, probably making a fool out of himself.

“Is it a doctor’s appointment for your arm? I know how annoying those can be, last year my mom broke her ankle, she was carrying the laundry up the stairs and she slipped and it went everywhere, it was tragic, really, but anyway she had to go to all these appointments and –”

“Yeah, yeah, um, I have a doctor’s appointment for,” he coughed, “for my arm, yeah.” He hadn’t meant to interrupt her, and he felt terrible when he realized that he had, but he really just wanted to go home and it felt like he was being interrogated.

“It’s terrible that this should take away from your education, forcing you to take time out of your school day. It was the same thing with my mom, the doctors always telling her that she had to have appointments in the middle of the day, as if she didn’t have a job and a life to attend to. Our medical system really needs some reform, don’t you think? This summer when I was volunteering at the hospital downtown…” Alana continued to talk, but Evan didn’t have enough energy to focus on her words anymore.

He could hear the cars driving by on the street, and the sun was too bright, and the lines painted on the ground were so _yellow_ , and Alana was too close, and she was still _talking_  and the school bell was ringing and it was all too much for him to process.

Every time he blinked it felt so good to not have to _see_  it all anymore that he thought he might never open his eyes again. It was taking all his energy not to put his hands over his ears and all he wanted to be doing in that moment was sitting in his room with the lights turned off.

“Evan?” Alana said, looking at him expectantly.

He blinked, trying not to keep his eyes closed for too long so she wouldn’t start thinking about how weird he was.

“Sorry, uh,” his voice sounded scratchy, so he cleared his throat, “d-did you ask me something?”

“Yeah,” she said, giving him a strange look, “I asked if your mom was coming to drive you to the hospital. Is your hearing okay?” The look on her face was concerned, not accusatory, but Evan still felt the guilt seeping in at having ignored what she was saying _and_  making her worry.

“U-um, no, she’s working at the – at the hospital right now so, uh, I’m gonna meet her there,” he felt dizzy.

“You’re walking there?” she asked, “that doesn’t seem like –”

“Yeah, uh, so I’d better go. I wouldn’t want – I shouldn’t be late,” he interrupted. Evan felt guilty all over again, and really, Alana was just being nice, but he really _really_  needed to get home.

He tried to say goodbye as nicely as he could, and then he turned back around and stalked home as quickly as possible.

* * *

 

He walked in the front door and went straight for the stairs, not even looking around first.

“Evan,” he jumped a mile when he heard the voice, not expecting anyone to be home.

“Honey why aren’t you at school?” His mom was standing in the kitchen wearing an apron and looking concerned.

_Here I go again, making everyone worry._

“M-mom!” he said nervously, “I thought you’d be at, at work?”

She walked over to him and brushed some stray hairs from his forehead. “I took the day off,” she said, smiling down at him in a way that made him feel terrible for making her worry, “I wanted to surprise you with dinner.”

He looked down, feeling worse and worse and worse. He _knew_  that she didn’t just decide to surprise him with dinner. He had been screwing up lately, acting too crazy around her, and now she was worried and scared and guilty and it would take forever and a few extra therapy sessions for her to stop walking on eggshells and start acting normal around him again.

He forced himself to smile, not wanting to give her any more reasons to think something was wrong, “that’s really – you didn’t have to do that, mom” he told her.

“I know sweetie but – hey, you never told me why you’re not at school, is everything okay? Should I call Dr. Sherman?” He could feel the anxiety in her voice and his shoulders tensed.

“Everything’s okay, really, I just,” he paused, searching for some kind of excuse, “um, I was feeling kind of sick and I’m just, I’m really tired so I think I’ll just go upstairs for a while, I mean, if that’s, um, if that’s okay.”

“Sure it is honey,” she said kindly, her forehead creasing, “just let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah, mom, I will.” He gave her another small smile and rushed up the stairs, eager to be alone and just _away_  from everything. He pretended not to notice the small sigh that escaped his mom's lips when she thought he was out of earshot.

He pretended not to notice how much of a burden he was to everyone around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again :) I hope you guys know that even if I update really irregularly, I will not give up on this! Anyway yay for Alana finally making an appearance!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had so much free time lately because it's my exam period, except by free time I mean study time that I have not been using for studying :/ anyway here's a new chapter!
> 
> Edit: I won't be updating this until after my exams are all done (its grind time) so probably the 27th? I'm sorry, but I love you all!!

Connor took one last hit before dropping the joint on the ground and stubbing it out with his foot. He held the smoke in his lungs for longer than usual, savoring the last hit, before tilting his head toward the sky.

_Damn it’s been way too long._

He pushed the smoke out of his lungs smoothly, watching it billow above him, looking like it was mixing with the clouds in the sky.

His throat tingled and he started to cough as he walked through the gate and made his way back towards the school. He could hear the smokers and stoners snickering behind him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Yeah, he’d probably held it in too long.

The administration at this school was super strict about smoking on school property, even just cigarettes. So strict, in fact, that even the stoners and delinquent types had decided it wasn’t worth it to break the rules. Connor had always thought the rule backfired on them though, because the gate on the East side of the school, just off school property, was like a fucking black market pharmacy.

It’s not like the school was all that strict about drugs, Connor had seen people rolling joints in the washrooms, for god’s sake, even _he_ wasn’t that stupid, but the fact that all the stoners had to hang out at the gate if they wanted to smoke meant that it was just a convenient place to meet.

The gate was always useful for when he was in desperate need, or when he was in a situation like his current one where he’d been stupid enough to let his stash go down. It was always more expensive to order a la carte like this, but sometimes he just couldn’t wait for a meetup with his regular guy.

He felt the tension seep away as he walked through the parking lot. His body felt heavy and empty and _low_ and he felt like he might sink into the ground, but at the same time it was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. Did that make any sense? He didn’t think it did.

It’s not like weed solved all his problems, he knew that. They were all still there: his anger, his family, the assholes at school, his guilt about Evan Hansen, but it’s like they didn’t belong to him anymore. All these things seemed so distant and far away and thinking about them didn’t make him feel anything at all because they weren’t _real_ things.

As he got closer and closer to the school, he could see someone sitting on the wooden bench outside, alone. He squinted his eyes to see who it was, trying to make sure it wasn’t one of the aforementioned assholes, but it didn’t help much. He kept his eyes like that, squinted and in detective mode, until he was close enough that he could make out a striped blue T-shirt and a scrawny face.

“Hansen?” he asked, chuckling when he noticed that his words had made Evan jump a mile. Then he remembered why Evan would be scared of him and tried his best to stifle his laughter, knitting his eyebrows together as he focused all his energy on making his face neutral.

Evan was looking up at him, shoulders hunched, eyes wide and alert.

Connor didn’t say anything else. He remembered that he'd wanted to talk to Evan Hansen, but he’d overdone it a little after being sober for almost an entire week and didn’t think his brain was capable of well thought-out sentences right now.

He hadn’t thought it was possible before, but the longer the silence went on, Evan seemed to get more and more stressed. His left leg started shaking and he was wiping his palms on his jeans before words started to tumble out of his mouth.

“I was just – I had a presentation, for, uh, History? But I hate presentations and I couldn’t handle, um,” he made a face and shook his head, “never mind, you obviously don’t care about, um, about that so never mind.” He pulled on his shirt nervously as he continued, “just, that’s why I’m here. I’m not following you or, or stalking you or anything, sorry, I’ll just –” he started to get up, reaching down to grab his backpack.

Connor’s mind was racing as quickly as it could in its’ current state.

_I can’t let him leave he can’t leave Connor don’t let him leave!_

“Where are you going?” Connor asked suddenly, unsure of why he so desperately wanted Evan to stay, to talk to him.

Evan just looked confused. “Uh, I-I thought, well since last time we saw each other you, um,” Evan trailed off and was now looking at him strangely. After a moment he realized it was probably because he was swaying slightly, shifting his weight from his toes to his heels and back again. He thought he should probably stop, considering Evan was giving him a look like _that_ but it just felt so _natural_ , like in that moment, that’s what his body needed to do.

“Are – are you okay?” asked Evan, worry in his voice, and he seemed to come to a realization because then he asked, incredulously, “are you _high?”_

Connor grinned.

“Cracked another case, Mr. Holmes,” he replied, still smiling.

Evan didn’t laugh though, instead his frown deepened and his forehead creased with worry.

“Listen, um, I know you don’t want to talk about what h-happened – what I saw at your, um, house, and I know you really, uh, really hate me and that I’m a f-freak, but if you ever,” Evan was staring pointedly at the ground and gritting his teeth, as if he had to force the words out of his mouth, “let me give you my, um, my number?” He held his hand out expectantly and Connor looked back and forth from his outstretched hand to his face in confusion.

Evan had been talking way too fast and Connor just wanted him to _slow down_ but what with trying to process all of Evan’s words he hadn’t had the brain power to speak. Having said that, he hadn’t been too successful at processing the words either. He was pretty sure Evan had said something about being a freak?

_Why would he say he’s a freak, did I call him that?_

_Oh, right, I think I did._

_Why is he holding his hand out like that am I supposed to, like, shake it?_

Just as Connor’s mind was reeling, Evan cleared his throat.

“So, uh, c-can I see your phone?” he asked, his voice much shakier than it had been before, as if he’d lost a lot of his nerve.

Connor reached into his pocket and placed his phone in Evan’s shaking, outstretched right hand, still a little confused about what was going on.

It felt like only a second later that Evan was handing Connor back his phone with a tight smile.

“If you ever feel like, um, if you ever think about doing something like – like that again, please just, just call me,” he was probably trying to make his smile seem more genuine, but Connor thought it looked kind of like a grimace, “okay?”

Was this really happening? Evan Hansen, the kid he’d pushed and then treated like shit, was giving him his _number_? He was high but he wasn’t _that_ high, so there was no way he was just imagining this.

Connor just couldn’t comprehend how someone could be so forgiving and so _nice_.

His face probably looked totally blank, because Evan started to explain further.

“It’s just that I-I think I kind of understand? I think we’re maybe sort of, um, similar in that-that way and I know how it, how it feels.” He was staring at his shoe as he rolled a pebble around with his foot, then his breath hitched suddenly and his hands tugged at the hem of his shirt, “not that, not that we’re alike in other ways, too! You’re not, um, you’re not a freak like me, or anything, that’s not what I, what I meant, I’m sorry I’m just, um, I’ve gotta go, so,” he pulled the straps of his backpack over his shoulders and quickly turned to walk away, but before he could get out of earshot, Connor spoke up.

“Hey, uh, thanks,” he said, and he thought he saw the small hint of a smile form on Evan’s face. He didn’t know why, but it made him feel warm and cozy inside, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Oh it’s, it’s no problem,” Evan replied, then he ducked his head as he started to walk away.

Connor felt frozen in place. He just stood there in front of the school, watching Evan go.

* * *

Evan walked away from school feeling so many different emotions that he thought he might explode.

He’d been avoiding Connor Murphy all week. Or rather, he’d been avoiding everyone all week, but paying special attention to Connor Murphy because Connor was the only one who might’ve actually killed him.

A nagging voice in the back of his mind was asking _would that really be so bad, Evan?_ But he was pushing it down, down, down because he really didn’t need to be thinking about that right now.

When Connor had approached him on the bench Evan was convinced his heart had stopped beating, he was so scared. But Connor had been nice and calm and not his terrifying self and honestly, it made Evan so _frustrated_.

He could deal with terrifying; he could deal with the anger and the yelling because he could learn to expect it, but this back and forth between angry Connor and reasonable Connor was really giving him a headache.

_The way he acts, it’s like, he almost reminds me of  –_

He shook his head violently. No, no, no, no, no. Nope. He was not going to think about _that_ either.

 _Besides_ , he told himself, _that was dealt with years and years ago. He doesn’t even affect me anymore it doesn’t even matter at all so why should I be thinking about it?_

He went back to thinking about his exchange with Connor. Sure, Connor scared him and frustrated him and probably also hated him, but Evan had been struggling long enough to know what struggling looked like. He could see his very same loneliness and desperation and hopelessness reflected in Connor and it made his heart ache.

Connor was probably laughing at him and deleting his number this very second, but Evan was okay with that, because that’s what he expected. He didn’t really think anything would come out of it, but Evan knew he’d had to do _something_ or the guilt would pile on to the guilt that already lived in his bones and dragged him lower and lower each day. The guilt over being a psychiatric mess and a screw-up and a burden to everyone around him.

Speaking of which, he could already feel the guilt from ditching school again adding to the pile. He could already hear his mom’s watery voice asking ‘What went wrong today?’ which really meant ‘What did _I_ do wrong today?’ which would make Evan feel like a pile of garbage which would make his mom ask more questions, and the cycle would repeat itself over and over.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he sighed with dread. He really really hated talking on the phone.

The thought of answering the call made him anxious, but his off-brand phone didn’t have caller ID and the thought of ignoring it when it could be his mom calling because she was in danger made him even more stressed out and he couldn’t just not pick up.

“H-hello?” he said awkwardly, forcing himself to breathe methodically.

“Hey, um, it’s me Jared. I thought I’d tell you ‘cause your weird phone doesn’t have Caller ID right?” he chuckled, but it sounded like it was more out of discomfort than genuine amusement.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” was all Evan could think to say. He’d blown up at Jared before and he really didn’t know what to say to him now. He didn’t want to apologize, but he’d also figured he’d ruined the friendship, so he didn’t expect Jared would ever want to talk to him again.

“Look, I know how much you hate talking on the phone but I just, I figured you wouldn’t answer my texts.”

Evan made a sound, as if about to protest, but Jared interrupted him.

“C’mon, Evan, don’t pretend you haven’t been avoiding me all week, you know I know you better than that.”

Evan sighed, because, yeah, Jared was right, he _had_ been avoiding him and he probably wouldn’t have answered his texts or even picked up the phone if he’d known it was him calling.

“I guess I just, didn’t really, um, think you’d care? If we, if we never talked again. So I just kind of, thought our friend – uh, our _family_ friendship was over?”

“You didn’t think I’d…” Jared’s voice trailed off, “shit, look Evan, come over tomorrow night okay?”

Evan hesitated. He didn’t really believe it was a serious offer, and was wracking his brain for some possible ulterior motive.

“We can watch movies, even those weird tree documentaries you like, just like we used to do. We can even do, like, a high school version of it because my parents won’t be home and we can sneak some of their alcohol.” He sighed, “please just say you’ll come, okay?” his voice was pleading and Evan was completely taken aback.

Why did Jared even care whether he came or not?

Jared seemed so sincere and Evan was so weary and he really just wanted to get off the phone, so he ran his fingers through his hair and gave in.

“Okay, Jared, I’ll-I’ll be there”


	8. Chapter 8

Connor spread butter onto the piece of bread with a knife, then he threw it into the frying pan and watched as it sizzled. He opened the package of plastic cheese, imagining his mother’s outraged face if she knew ‘that inedible garbage’ had set foot in her house, and smiled at the thought.

“What’re you doing?” asked an accusatory voice from behind him, “trying to burn down the house?”

“I _can_ actually cook, for your information,” Connor scowled but didn’t turn around, focusing solely on the melting cheese and sizzling bread.

“Oh really? That’s news to me,” she replied, snarky and sarcastic as always.

Connor’s grip tightened on the frying pan, his knuckles whitening, and he forced himself to take deep breaths.

_She’s just kidding Connor don’t freak out. She doesn’t think you’re lazy and useless, she’s not dad. She didn’t really mean it. Stop taking things so seriously Connor, stop being a goddamn psychopath and. Don’t. Freak. The fuck. Out._

He turned around, forcing his shoulders down and clenching his fists in an attempt to keep the tension contained in one small area.

“I’m making a grilled cheese, I bought extra in case you might want one too,” he said, calmly.

“You bought – you went to the store? Connor Murphy, who only leaves his bedroom to get high, went to a _grocery store_?”

He scowled again, but the smile on her face and the amusement in her voice made his fists unclench and the angry buzzing start to recede.

“Ha-ha.” He said, “make fun of me all you want, but you’ll be sorry you did when you see what a masterpiece I’ve created. I might even try out for Masterchef, _that’s_ how good it will be.”

“I would never willingly ingest something that _you_ made,” she said, eyes narrowed, “no matter how good it looks.”

He felt like he’d been punched. He was deflated and breathless, like he’d taken a hard fall to the ground.

“I’m not going to poison your sandwich,” he mumbled after a second, unable to keep the hurt out of his voice. He turned to look at her again and then switched his gaze to look at the floor when he noticed the skepticism in her face and her stiff body language.

Memories came to mind, dozens of them bombarding him from all directions. Connor Beating on Zoe’s door, yelling and screaming that he wanted to kill her, all because she ate the last brownie. Throwing her very first guitar at the wall when she’d said his shirt was ugly. Cutting up her favorite dress when he was thirteen because she’d been invited to a party and he hadn’t.

All these things had seemed so _reasonable_ at the time, they all felt like things he just _had_ to do in order to get rid of that jitteriness he was filled with, but whenever he looked back there was only one thing that was clear: Connor was a terrible person.

He tried not to look back very often.

Connor sighed and looked into his sister’s face, forcing himself to deal with seeing just how thoroughly he’d fucked this relationship up. Just like he always fucked everything up.

“Look Zo, I…” he wanted to admit he’d messed everything up. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for being angry and vindictive and _terrible_. He wanted to thank her for still talking to him, for not outright agreeing whenever their dad called him a lost cause, even after all the things he screwed up in her life, but he didn’t say any of those things. He _couldn’t_ say any of those things. His mouth dried up and he clamped it shut, feeling utterly lost. The words went quiet on his tongue because Connor knew he couldn’t honestly say that he’d never hurt her again.

_No matter how hard I try, I always fuck it all up. I can’t tell her I won’t do it again, because I know it’s a lie. I can’t ask her for another chance, because how many have I already had? And I just keep on throwing them away. I’m awful, and nothing can change it. A true lost cause._

After a moment too long, Zoe cleared her throat loudly. “Man, is that _plastic_ cheese? See, that changes everything,” her tone was overly cheery, and Connor could tell she was trying hard to diffuse the situation, “We haven’t had that stuff since we were, like, ten! I suppose I’ll have to risk a little poison…”

Connor smiled at her, a beaming and grateful smile she probably hadn’t seen in years. She’d noticed the hurt in his face, she’d _known_ that he was really trying this time, so she’d decided to give him yet another chance.

_There I go, being shitty and manipulative again. I made her feel guilty and now she’s being nice but I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve anything from her._

“You’d better be careful with that stuff, though, Con, ‘cause if mom sees it…” Zoe said, eyes widening in mock fear.

“I’m very good at hiding things,” Connor answered, smirking, “besides, mom is at her yoga class until 8:30 and dad’s at work until… whenever, so we’re good.”

Connor took out two more slices of bread from the loaf and started to make a second grilled cheese.

“Hey, I was planning on just watching some Netflix tonight, did you want to join me?” Zoe asked.

Connor hesitated.

_I don’t deserve this I don’t deserve this I fucking smashed her guitar what kind of person does that she’s being too nice I shouldn’t -_

“Aw c’mon Connor, it’ll be like old times, when we used to have those movie nights?” Zoe pleaded, but after another moment of silence she spoke again, “I mean you don’t have to, it’ll be more peaceful on my own anyway.” Her voice sounded aloof and indifferent, and Connor felt another pang of guilt.

She expected him to let her down.

Like he always did.

“No I… that sounds really fun, Zo,” he said, forcing a smile.

* * *

Hours later, they were still camped out on the couch, watching yet another terrible Indie movie when they heard the click of the lock and Connor’s shoulders immediately tensed.

Every footstep filled Connor’s stomach with anxiety and he hoped beyond hope that it was his mom, home early from yoga for some understandable reason. Maybe it was cancelled today, or maybe she forgot her mat, or maybe Connor had the day wrong and it wasn’t actually Thursday today, or –

“Hey Zoe,” his dad said from the doorway, “how was school today?”

Zoe clicked the pause button on the remote and turned to look at their father, standing in the doorway to the living room.

“It was okay. We had this big test in History today and I’m not sure it went too well, but Jazz band practice was really good, I just found out I have a solo in the upcoming concert!”

“That’s great honey,” he said, a little absent-mindedly, “I can’t wait to hear it. That’s in November, right?”

“Dad it’s on October fourth,” Zoe said, shoulders sagging slightly, “I told you that yesterday, remember?”

“October fourth? I have that big meeting in New Orleans that day…” he said, “that’s too bad, I guess I’ll have to hear you play next time.”

“But I,” Zoe started, then swallowed, “um, yeah don’t worry about it, dad, I’m sure you’ll get to hear the next one,” she forced a smile.

“Well, I’m just going to go send a few emails, you have fun with your Netflixering or whatever you kids call it these days.”

He strode out of the room, walking in front of the couch, right past Zoe and Connor. Zoe turned to look at Connor, eyebrows turned down in anger. Right before their dad reached the door to the kitchen, Zoe spoke again.

“Aren’t you gonna say hi to Connor, dad?” She said pointedly, and Connor swiveled his head to stare at her, feeling totally betrayed.

“Oh,” Larry cleared his throat awkwardly, “uh, hi Connor,” he said uncomfortably before turning around again. Connor dug his nails into his palms, trying to feel anything but this awful moment.

“You’re not going to ask _him_ how his day was?” She said, arms crossed and eyes glaring at her father. Connor continued to glare at Zoe, and his vision started to blur in anger.

 _How could she? How_ could _she? So this is why she was acting all nice? So that she could get dad to yell at me_ again _? I just wanted one peaceful day and she’s taking it from me, all because she wants some fucking entertainment? Fuck this, fuck her, I can’t believe I trusted her. I can’t believe I thought things were actually going to get_ better.

Larry looked at Zoe for a few seconds, not saying anything. Then he twisted his head to look at Connor, who was desperately trying to sink into the couch cushions.

“I didn’t ask him because I don’t need to. I’m sure it was great.” His voice was filled with disgust and he was staring straight into Connor’s eyes, “skipping class and doing drugs, just like every single goddamn day, throwing away all the opportunities I’ve ever given him.”

Connor breathed hard, desperately wanting to pick up the glass coffee table and throw it at this fucking asshole he called a father.

_He’s right though, isn’t he?_

He stood up abruptly and ran out of the room, watching his dad turn away as he fled. He ran up the stairs and into his bedroom, slamming the door.

_All I am is entertainment to her, and I’m nothing to him. I’m nothing to anyone._

He had a sudden thought and picked up his phone, scrolling quickly down to H in his contacts. He couldn’t find the name he wanted.

_Why did I think he’d actually given me his number? Why did I think anyone would want to talk to me? I can’t believe -_

As he scrolled back up, he saw the name ‘Evan’ with an emoji of a tree beside it.

_The stupid kid didn’t even type in his last name._

He typed out ‘Hansen, what’s with the tree?’ and pressed send, not expecting any response. Seconds later, not giving Connor much time to dwell on what happened with his dad, for which he was grateful, Evan sent a reply:

“I guess I just really like trees? I’m also kind of an expert. Sorry, you probably think it’s stupid, you can delete it if you want”

Connor typed back a response: “nah I like it, now I’ll never forget which Evan you are”

“You know a lot of Evans?”

“no, not really”

"Oh, well I guess you can pretend you know a lot!"

Connor read through the conversation several times and couldn’t help but smile. Why had he been so upset about his dad anyway? It’s not like it was a surprise or anything.

It didn’t bother Connor at all actually, he decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo that was an unexpected hiatus, but I'm hopefully back for good now? I actually do have a plan for this story it's just taken me awhile to iron out some things I guess?
> 
> Anyway my tumblr is tiguidoute, please please please come nag me about being terrible at updating, I lose track of time a lot and I might forget otherwise


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